


by the river

by BlackSclera



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blood, Canonical Character Death, Demon!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSclera/pseuds/BlackSclera
Summary: Ichigo meets him when he is nine.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	by the river

His mother is warm, Ichigo thinks as he stares over her shoulder. Rain pelted over them unrelentingly, soaking through their clothes and making him shiver uncontrollably from the cold.

She would scold him, wouldn’t she? Like that one time he’d forgotten his raincoat, went home dripping wet, and tracked mud all over their living room floor until his father had to carry him to the bathroom to get washed up. He had a fever that lasted three days right after and his parents didn't get much sleep worrying over him and his condition.

She would scold him, he thinks. Pinch his cheek a little, make him clean his mess, and then she’d sigh fondly and tell him to be more careful. She would scold him like she always does, like she always had, and this time shouldn't be any different except it _is,_ because she's-

“ _She’s dead, King.”_

He blinks slowly and twists his head to follow the familiar voice.

The boy that spoke looks like Ichigo, from the spikes of his hair to the tiny scar he has under his chin that he got when he was four, but he’s in all the wrong colors. Snow white hair and yellow eyes, black teeth that caged an alien blue tongue.

“It’s you,” Ichigo says hoarsely. There is a scream bubbling at the back of his throat but it stays there, lodged painfully, bringing hot tears into his eyes that refuse to fall.

_“It’s me,”_ the other echoes, blue liquid dripping down the tips of his hair to his eyes. The demon that killed his mother is slumped over by his feet with a hole the size of his fist in its chest.

_It’s dead_ , the serene expression on the boy’s face seems to say, _it’s not going to touch you again._

(Ichigo had always heard him. A familiar distorted warble like he’s listening underwater, high-pitched and unhinged. He lingered in the corners of Ichigo’s conscience and he knew it wasn’t right, knew that children his age didn’t hear voices in their heads that told them to break fingers and snap necks, knew that he was _different_.

_"Don't tell 'em or they'll look at ya funny,"_ he says and Ichigo believed him.)

“Why?” he whispers, soft and cracking with the promise of a sob. _Why did you save me?_

_Why didn’t you save her?_

For a long moment, there is nothing but his mother’s fading warmth and the sting of rain hitting his face. The other boy watches him, head cocked to the side, the demon blood that covered his naked skin evaporating with the carcass of its owner.

Then, he bares his teeth in a smile.

_“Isn’t it obvious?”_ he asks, amused.

_"Cuz ya didn’t want me to.”_

-

(When Isshin finds him hours later, he makes a sound like he’s being gutted alive.

Ichigo trembles, a little blue from the cold, and he watches through lidded eyes as his father takes them in his arms and cries.

Inside his head, White laughs. He _laughs_ , and he's violent and sinister but he isn't a liar.)

-


End file.
